


Blood Moon

by Obeymepoptart



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Blood Kink, F/M, MC is Yuki, Masturbation, Menstruation, Menstruation Kink, Mild Sexual Content, No beta we die like lilith, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, additional tagging will happen with each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25678969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obeymepoptart/pseuds/Obeymepoptart
Summary: How do demons handle the entire female reproductive cycle, particularly when human blood plays havoc on demonic senses?Ch 1: Mainly Mammon-centric.Ch 2: Mainly Satan and Beel-centricCh 3: A different take on Asmo
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), additional relationships tagged once chapters are up
Comments: 42
Kudos: 354





	1. Red as Blood

It’s been two weeks of being in Devildom, and you’re finally getting a hang of it. I mean, the first 24 hours, once you had been left alone in your room and you had a panic attack that made you try to suffocate yourself with a pillow because you were hyperventilating. It’s better now. You have a pact with both Mammon and Levi, Lucifer has only subtly threatened to kill you once over those attic stairs, and you’re finally getting a grip on your RAD classes.

Which is clearly when Mother Nature, that devious whore, decided to show her face, and grace you with your period. It’s not that your period freaks you out, but more like, you’ve never lived with six guys (well, seven if you count Belphie in the attic, but its a secret), never mind six male demons, nevermind that avatar of sin business.

It’s late by a few days, which had made you wonder if being in Devildom meant no periods. Nope, it was just stress. Whoopee!

You triple check yourself and your supplies, since the last thing you want is an accident in a school full of demons. You’re actually wearing a pair of short lycra pants underneath your school skirt. Paranoid? Maybe just a touch. Embarrassment aside, you don’t really want to causing a diplomatic incident. Because this wouldn’t just reflect on you, as an individual human girl, but literally all of humankind. (Still getting used to that pressure, actually, thankyouverymuch). 

You went down to breakfast, and it's a lively morning. Mammon, Levi, and Satan are arguing about something, Asmo is trying to steal the last bits of bacon from Beel, and Lucifer seems to be reviewing the upcoming agenda for the school’s officers meeting. You slid into your seat, and started to eat a breakfast of toast and eggs. After two bites, you realized that the table is mostly silent and everyone is sending you covert glances. You dabbed your mouth with a napkin, maybe you had egg yolk over it again?

Lucifer cleared his throat. “Are you feeling well this morning, Yuki?” he asked.

“Uh… sure. I mean, I’m kinda sweating over my devil law essay, but Satan said he’d review it later this afternoon,” you shared, sending a small smile toward the blond demon, whose eyes seemed greener this morning than normal. He gave you a feral smile, and you felt a slight shiver run down your spine.

“I see,” Lucifer said, exchanging glances with Mammon, who looked serious and like he had eaten something that didn’t agree with him at the same time. You’ve never seen him look like that before.

“C’mon Yuki, I’ll walk you to RAD this morning,” Mammon said abruptly, getting up from the table without finishing his breakfast.

You grabbed the rest of your buttered toast, and followed him out of the dining room.

*******

“She smelled so good,” Beel murmured around a mouthful of food.

“She smelled delicious,” Asmo said with a leering expression.

Satan said nothing, but licked his lips unconsciously.

Lucifer’s lips twisted in a grimace. He should have anticipated this. In fact, they all should have. But it’s one thing to know about human reproductive cycles and it’s another to actually have to live through one. 

Demon noses were extremely sensitive. And particularly adept at scenting human blood. And right now, Yuki smelled like the equivalent of a freshly roasted chicken to a pack of hungry wolves.

“Right, so let me remind all of you that if anything did happen to Yuki, the success of Lord Diavolo’s exchange program would be put into jeopardy. And I am not about to let that happen,” Lucifer growled. “Which means, Yuki will be accompanied by one of you at least, if not more, during her entire time. She is to be accompanied to and from this house at all times.”

“We’re more than happy to escort her,” Asmo said seductively.

“Untouched,” Lucifer re-stated for his lascivious little brother. Asmo glared at him.

“She smelled good enough to eat,” Beel said, interrupting the glares between Asmo and Lucifer.

Lucifer felt a migraine coming on. It wasn’t like Beel to notice such things. “Eat double or triple during her time Beel, if you must. But refrain from eating the human,” Lucifer sighed. The look Beel sent him was not reassuring.

“I’m going to stay and do virtual classes this week,” Levi got up from the table abruptly. He had remained silent the entire time, but you could practically feel his demon form about to manifest. There was a crackling electric scent to the air.

“As you must,” Lucifer said. “I could have used your assistance but if you’re unable to control yourself. However, since you will be home, you will have to ensure that Yuki does not leave the house unaccompanied by someone else.”

Levi nodded jerkily, and walked out of the dining room stiffly.

“I must talk to Lord Diavolo about this, and see if there is anything we can do to make this time less trying for all,” Lucifer said, rising from the table. And not for the first time, wishing that fate or Lord Diavolo had chosen a less troublesome human.

*******

“Pssst, Mammon,” you whispered loudly. You have no idea what is wrong with Mammon today. Typically, he’s chatty and fairly easy to read. Right now, his face is like a thundercloud and he’s been surly all day. Frankly, all of the brothers while being unusually attentive, walking you to classes have all been very curt with you. Except for Asmo, who has been super flirty. In fact, Mammon has had to slap Asmo’s hands more than once already. At one point, you thought the two of them would come to blows.

Mammon did not take his eyes off his DDD, except to look around you. Not at you, but around you. It sort of pisses you off, but he’s clearly going through something. Maybe Lucifer found another stack of unpaid bills? “Whaddya want?” he mumbled tersely.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” you said, about to veer down a hallway to the nearest girl’s bathroom. 

Mammon grabbed your arm, stopping you. “Come with me,” he said gruffly, not letting go of your arm and almost dragging you in the direction of the student council room.

“MAMMON! I have to use the facilities,” you hissed, attracting the attention of a few lower demons you passed along the way. Mammon noticed the demons noticing you, and stopped to growl at them and flip them off, before continuing to walk/drag you toward the councilroom. All without letting go of your arm.

“Mammon, slow the fuck down, you’re going to wrench my arm off its socket,” you said, somewhat out of breath. Seriously, WTF is up with him today?

He slowed down fractionally, and his grip lessened, but he continued determinedly to the councilroom. He wrenched the door open, and knocked on a panel that then slid to reveal a bathroom. “Here, bathroom,” he said, with a wave of his hand.

You looked at him like he had grown a second head. “You could have explained,” you muttered, before he closed the door on your face. You went ahead and used the toilet, changed your hygiene supplies, and chucked them into the trash. You could have sworn there wasn’t a trash can there before, but you hadn’t been paying attention to be honest. You were slightly more concerned about why Mammon was being such a jerk today.

Mammon knocked on the door. “Yo, you almost done in there?” he asked.

“Yeah yeah, gimme a minute,” you shouted back. You went to the sink and washed your hands. No sooner had you turned off the water, and were drying them that Mammon opened the door. 

He was no longer alone. There was a little D with him.

“I’m ready,” you said, walking out of the bathroom.

“Okay, gimme me a minute,” Mammon said, walking into the bathroom with the little D, leaving the door open.

“Hey hey! Close the door! No one wants to see you take a whee!” you said scandalized.

Mammon barked out a laugh. You also heard him mutter something, and then you smelled something burning in the air. You peered in through the bathroom door to see the trashcan on fire.

“OMG, what are you doing? Why are you setting fire to shit in the student council room?” you gasped.

Mammon ignored you and turned to the little D. “Just like that, you hear me. Burn anything that is left.”

The little D nodded. “As you wish, Lord Mammon,” the little imp said before scurrying away.

Mammon turned to look at you, and you noticed that his normal midnight blue eyes are a lighter shade of blue, and seem even more impossibly golden than normal. “I’m burning all traces of your blood,” he said bluntly.

You just stared, embarrassment stopping your vocal cords from working. 

He stalked toward you. “Do you know what a fucking demon can do if they got their hands on some of your blood?”

You shook your head, and couldn’t help a small frisson of fear shoot through you. Your palms got damp, and you took a step back. Mammon is right up against you, trapping you against the doorway to the bathroom. He smiled and his grin is feral. “Human blood has many many magical uses. You should ask Satan, he probably knows all of the spells and potions it can be used in. Most of them are quite nasty though. It never ends up well for the blood donor,” Mammon’s voice is a hot whisper over your cheeks.

“Oh,” you said weakly. Mammon has never invaded your personal space like this before. It’s both a little disconcerting and exciting at the same time. Your heart thumped unevenly. 

Mammon closed his eyes, and exhaled softly. When his eyes re-opened, they seemed like they were slightly more blue than before. “Yeah, it’s not safe for you. Especially for you during this time. So anytime you need to use the facilities here at school, you’re going to use the bathroom here. I already cleared it with Lucifer,” he said as he took two steps back.

Your face burned to think about all of the brothers knowing about your time of the month. But you know that not every demon is happy about your presence there. It’s different with Solomon. He has magic. He probably knows about the blood. And he doesn’t have to worry about five days a month when you’re literally bleeding and there’s nothing you can do. Biology sucks so much ass sometimes.

“Anyway, let’s head to class,” Mammon said, turning around. You grabbed his arm this time, and Mammon turned again to look at you.

“Thank you,” you said softly. You don’t quite understand all of the nuances with the situation, but one thing is clear, and that is that Mammon has been doing his best to protect you from your own ignorance. 

He nodded, and looked down to your hand on his arm. You took your hand away, and he shook his arm as if burned. 

“You don’t go anywhere without me or one of my brothers, ya hear me?” he added gruffly.

“Yes, Mammon,” you said meekly. You can’t imagine the world of hurt that may head your way if you didn’t have Mammon or one of his brothers looking out for you. The tips of Mammon’s ears turned a dull red.

“As long as you understand,” he bit out. Clearly being your guardian is no walk in the park for Mammon. And doubly so during your monthly. You resolved to do everything Mammon asked of you while your period lasts. It’s clearly a very stressful time for him. 

***

Mammon escorted you back to the House of Lamentation after what had to be the single most trying day of his life in Devildom. Forget the time when the witch Maddi had him under a binding spell. Forget the time when he managed to wrack up a staggering bill in Monaco, and Lucifer found him losing two minor fortunes in baccarat. 

He’s been battling a hard-on for you all day long. 

It started the minute you walked into the dining room this morning. When he and his brothers scented you, and you smelled different. It didn’t take long for him and Lucifer to realize what they were smelling. He could tell from Lucifer’s slightly dilated pupils. He looked around the room, and just looking at Asmo’s eyes confirmed his suspicions. Asmo’s eyes were fully dilated, and he looked like he was about to shift into his demon form right while eating breakfast. Mammon had turned to look at Beel, to be surprised to see his little brother’s eyes fully dilated as well, and looking at you as if you were a juicy tomahawk steak.

He exchanged glances with Lucifer, and it was clear that he was going to have to get you out of the room at once. 

Except then you both had gone to RAD, and he literally had to stay at your side every single second. Several demons, incubi, and succubi, all stared at his human like an all you can eat buffet, eyes glazed with lust. He fucking hoped that Lucifer had hotfooted over to talk to Lord Diavolo about a solution, because this would be a bloodbath if he had to go through this every single month.

He even had to protect you from Asmo, who definitely was having a hard time controlling himself. He was going to have a talk with Asmo later, because he wasn’t sure that little pervert wasn’t enjoying himself. Asmo looked ready to pounce.

Not that he couldn’t blame his brother. You just smelled so good right now. Mammon had sat through class, sitting right next to you, trying not to inhale too deeply, when what he really wanted to do is bury his nose into your cleavage, inhale deep, and lose his mind.

And you didn’t recognize the danger you were in. He’d have to talk to Satan or Solomon about finding a book about blood magicks to teach you what a demon could do with some of your blood. You had almost fucking tried to go to the girl’s bathroom. It would have been like trying to swim in shark infested waters. One of the succubi would have tried to make a play for your soul, surely.

He had summoned a little D to take care of the student council bathroom. Greedy little thing had wanted double pay for the job too. In the end, Mammon accepted the terms. The bathroom had to be spotlessly clean after you used, and he didn’t trust any of the types of little Ds not to fucking fuck him or you over by doing a less than thorough job, or even worse, selling your blood to the highest fucking wanker. Like that Mephistopheles. Mammon has seen how Mephistopheles was trying to eye fuck you in Devil Law this morning.

He texted Lucifer as well to make him aware. Frankly, you should have been using this bathroom all along. There were probably as many uses for human piss as there were for human blood in magick. Mammon hated the idea that some demon might infiltrate the Devildom sewage system. Stranger things have happened, and the Devildom has never hosted a willing human, who had no magic, for so long.

Mammon thought there was no greater temptation than when you’d been up close and personal as he lectured you about the dangers of leaving a trace of blood available for a demon to use. All he had wanted to do was take another step forward and press against you, rolling his hips against yours. He could smell you, could see your heart beat race faster. He wondered how you’d react to know that he was hot and hard for you.

He had been wrong.

His greedy heart tripped over itself when you grabbed his arm to thank him. You clearly understood that he’d been protecting you all day, and gratitude shined out of your eyes. Every demonic instinct howled to take take take take take, to kiss your mouth and slide his tongue against yours. He wanted to feel your heaving chest against yours, your rapid heart beat under his hands, he wanted to roam his hands over your body, and mold your body against his. He never had thought of the council room as an erotic place, and there he was contemplating it as the absolute perfect place where to slake his lust. 

Except you weren’t asking him to fuck you in the student councilroom. You weren’t asking to be taken. You weren’t asking to be assaulted. It wasn’t what you wanted.

You were the only one that treated him kindly. The only one that didn’t treat him like a scummy idiot. And he knew, while he could easily overpower, easily convince you, it would still be coercion, and he would be everything all of his brothers ever accused him of being. He’d be a fucking monster.

He wasn’t going to take advantage of you. Not like this. He might take your wallet, take every single red cent you had to your name and then some, leave you high and dry financially, but he wouldn’t harm you this way.

So he walked you back to class. Growled at every single demon, demoness, incubi and succubi that dared to look at you, and made sure you made it back to the House of Lamentation, untouched. 

But he wanted to touch. Oh, did he want to touch.

He had escaped the minute he could to his room. The minute he had closed that door, he had transformed into his demon form and fisted himself to orgasm. He would have been embarrassed by how ridiculously quickly he came, if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt that he’d been edging the entire day.

Mammon seriously hoped that Lucifer or Lord Diavolo had a solution for all of them, because if not, he’s going to have to find a way to masturbate at school the next few days. He’s pretty sure he’s never going to able to be in the council room without fantasizing about you and him getting naked in there.

  
  
  
  



	2. Ripe Like the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and Solomon discuss a way to help you through your monthly time, Satan makes you tea, and Beel never looks at a cupcake the same way again.

“To summarize, there is no way to stop this from happening?” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, the wizard Solomon and Simeon were all gathered in the student council, and Solomon had just regretfully informed them that there was no magical way to suppress a human female’s menstrual cycle.

“Correct, the best I can do is create a potion that essentially would compress her cycle to 24 hours once it begins. I can speed Mother Nature up, I cannot however completely divert it,” Solomon acknowledged.

“Interesting. What do human females do in the mortal realm?” Simeon asked curiously.

“In essence, take any number of methods, most of which result in the body believing it is currently pregnant, which prevents the cycle from continuing,” Solomon disclosed with a humorless smile.

Lucifer was unable to suppress a groan. That sounded like a possibly worse solution. A pregnant human female in Devildom? There was no way he would be able to control his brothers. 

“But she wouldn’t actually be pregnant?” Simeon probed.

“Correct, but her body would believe it is because of the hormonal levels,” Solomon explained. “Of course, her body would still smell as if she were pregnant. The entire time she spent as an exchange student here.”

Lord Diavolo and Lucifer exchanged troubled looks. The solution sounded worse than the current scenario they were dealing with.

“Well, it seems that we have a solution,” Lucifer said reluctantly. “She will have to take the potion.”

Solomon pursed his lips. “Lucifer, I would suggest that we pose this as a question to her. She needs to be presented with her options, and she needs to make an informed decision. Where we come from, men have had the unfortunate tendency to dictate what a woman can or cannot do with her own body. I am more than happy to prepare the potion, but she must decide that she wants it.”

“I see. In that case, is there any potion, spell, charm, or hex that can assist in the meantime or even during the times that Yuki is taking the potion during her time?” Lord Diavolo inquired.

Solomon pondered this for a second. “Yes, I believe there is.”

“Excellent, please start the preparations for that,” Lord Diavolo gave his approval enthusiastically.

Solomon gave a charming smile. “I will gather the materials, Lord Diavolo. But this will again require Yuki’s participation.”

Everyone stared at Solomon. 

“Her tears, sire. Human tears contain certain elements that repress desire. I am simply planning on amplifying them,” Solomon clarified. “It will be more effective if they are keyed to her biology.”

“See to it, Solomon,” Lord Diavolo said gravelly. “This is to ensure her protection after all. Get her consent by any means.”

“Mammon has informed me that they are back in the House of Lamentation. Please allow me to escort you there right now,” Lucifer said after checking the texts from his DDD.

***

You heard a knock on your door and opened it to find Solomon standing outside your door. “Oh, Solomon, I did not expect to see you here today. You hanging out with Asmo?”

“Actually, I came to see you,” the wizard said with a warm smile. “May I come in?”

“Ha!” You snorted. “It’s nice to be asked every once in a while. Everyone just barges into my room without so much as a by your leave.”

“Rude,” Solomon commented. “How are you feeling?”

You groan and hide your face in a pillow. “Seriously? Does everyone know I have my period?”

“Would it make you better or worse if I said yes?” Solomon inquired.

“Ugh,” is muffled by the pillow. You lifted your head to see Solomon delicately perched on a corner of your bed.

He cleared his throat delicately. “Clearly, this is a situation that was unexpected when Lord Diavolo proposed his exchange program. However, you are here and it must be dealt with. You have a few options for you to choose from.”

“And you were the chosen designee to deliver them?” you asked sardonically.

“I felt that as a fellow human, it might be easier to hear it from me,” Solomon clarified.

“As you will, then.”

“Your first option is to let your cycle occur naturally. During the duration, however, you would need to be escorted at all times. Your safety is still in question, as your condition affects every single demon that you come in contact with.”

“How so?”

Solomon pursed his lips for a second. “To put it bluntly, you smell delicious. And every demon that spends any amount of time with you will either want to fuck you or eat you. Or some variation of either,” he disclosed bluntly.

“Oh.” Your face flushed in embarrassment. Had Mammon actually considered eating you? Your current life plan did not involve death by being eaten by any demon. “What are my other options?”

“One of your other options is to take a potion that I would prepare. It would not eliminate this part of your cycle, but it would confine it to a period of 24 to 48 hours. You would experience your cycle in a compressed manner. It would also potentially amplify any pains, cravings, or other symptoms you experience during this time.”

“Or?”

“You could also deal with it with a traditional human contraceptive method. However, it would again however have the net effect of your body believing it is pregnant. Your pheromones would smell as if you were pregnant. All the time.”

“Which, let me guess, also makes me smell delicious So any demon would want to fuck or eat me, or some variation thereof. Except for five days, it would all the time.”

“Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease,” Solomon said with a shrug. 

“To summarize, I could do nothing, and put my life and my person in danger five days a month; take a potion and suffer through up to 2 days of terrible periods, or put a sign on myself that says I’m delicious for the rest of my time here?”

“In essence, yes.”

“Well, it seems like a no-brainer. I’ll take the potion please.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer will be relieved. I believe that is the preferred course of action,” Solomon said with a smile. “During those two days, you can attend virtually like Levi does to minimize disruptions to the general student body. In addition, your housemates will be consuming another potion to mitigate the effects of your cycle for those two days.”

“Oh, that’s good to know,” you said, slightly relieved. You had been anxious that even with two days, you were still wearing a ‘I smell delicious’ sign.

“It is however going to require your participation,” Solomon smiled gently. “I need a vial of your tears.”

You barked out a laugh. “How is this my life?” you mused.

“Do you need me to leave? I’m happy to allow you some privacy if you need it,” Solomon offered.

And with that small kind offer, you felt your eyes well up. It was such a small gesture, but this day has been utterly shitty, and this situation is super shitty. Here was someone that was asking you what you wanted, treating you with respect, and it's been three long weeks. “You might want to get a vial out, Solo,” you said huskily.

Solomon said nothing, but actually held your hand while you cried. He collected a vial full of tears, and then offered you a handkerchief embroidered with “ASMO” on the edges that you used to dab at your eyes.

“You know, you don’t have to stay here. I’m sure I can talk to Lord Diavolo to get you transferred to Purgatory Hall if it becomes too much to you,” Solomon offered quietly.

“That’s a very sweet gesture, Solomon. I’m sure that there’s a reason why I’m here though,” you said. 

Solomon’s _hmmmm_ is very non-committal.

“You wouldn’t happen to have that ‘my period is on super speed’ potion with you?” you asked. Might as well and get that done and over with.

“I did prepare it in case you did decide to take it,” Solomon said. “I’ll bring more next week so that you can have it on hand. It should be relatively shelf stable until consumed.” He pulled out another vial full of a dark red liquid. 

“That’s not a reassuring statement, Solo,” you said with an arched eyebrow. “Do I want to know what’s in it?”

“Probably not. But the same thing can be said about any number of pharmaceuticals that we take in the human world.”

“Fair,” you mused. “Down the hatch,” you said as you downed the vial of liquid. It tasted metallic and salty, and just like blood. You wanted to gag but just choked it down. 

“I think I need a chaser,” you gasped out. “Couldn’t you have made it taste, oh I don’t know, nicer?”

“That is the best tasting version I could make,” Solomon said. “You don’t want to know what the original version tasted like.”

“Hard pass, Solo,” you commented. “I mean, thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this. Seriously, thank you.”

Solomon’s smile is brilliant. “We humans have to stick together,” he said, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“Thanks for being a friend, Solo. You’re a good guy,” you said, returning his smile.

“I wouldn’t go that far, darling. But happy to be of assistance, always,” he said with a wink. “I however need to make another potion for your housemates, so I have to take leave of you. I would suggest you staying in your room and not seeing anyone until they have had a chance to take their own potions.”

“Uh, how long is it going to take you?” you asked.

“Post-dinner. I should be done by then. I’ll let Lucifer know you will be dining in your room, and to bring you a tray instead of having you join them,” Solomon said, getting up and heading out the door.

“Bye Solomon! Thanks for everything. Again,” you waved at him from your bed.

Solomon flashed you another before closing the door. Which was not a minute too soon, before the worst cramp of your short life started.

“Ugh, kill me now,” you uttered to no one in particular.

***

It wasn’t a hardship to spend the rest of the afternoon and dinner time ensconced in your room. It didn’t seem like you could hardly go fifteen minutes before you were doubled over in pain, with your uterus being utterly angry at you. You’ve never gone through your monthly supplies so freaking fast either. Despite the kind words from Solomon, you definitely have cursed him a few times between taking the potion and now.

Your demon housemates are considerate enough to leave you a tray of food for dinner, with a note from Lucifer that Solomon has delivered the demon version of the potion and that if you want to venture outside of your room, you are able to do so without excessive risk. You snorted. 

Although, you could really use some tea. You used to get a blend of peppermint, chamomile, and rooibos that used to help on those occasions that you did have cramps back home. In fact, the idea of a comforting cup of tea is enough to commit murder. Or in this case, enough to risk encountering anyone still in the kitchen at this hour. Likely Beel, but it's just post-dinner and the likelihood that he’s already seeking snacks is the lowest it will be.

You managed to hobble your way to the kitchen. You only had to stop twice, panting when a cramp overtook you and you doubled over from pain, rubbed your lower abdomen, and tried breathing through your nose. By the time you made it to the kitchen and were putting water in the kettle to boil, your forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat. After managing to get the water going, you turned to the cupboard and attempted to find tea.

Only to be met with any number of jars and containers, all labelled in different types of scrawling script. You recognize both Lucifer’s bold handwriting, and Mammon’s chicken scratch on some of the labels. You’re willing to bet that the loopy handwriting is Asmo’s, and the big block letter types are from Beel. Most of the containers are labelled in a very neat and controlled handwriting, which you can’t understand. You decide that you’re just going to have to go with your gut. You open several jars, sniff them, and then find a jar that looks promising. You can’t read the label in the neat script, but the little dried bits look alot like tea leaves. You find a jar that smells like mint. With that, you turn around only to find Satan observing you intently from the door of the kitchen.

“Oh, hi Satan,” you said as casually as you could, while you looked for signs that Satan had taken the potion that Solomon said he had dropped off. You wouldn’t put it past Satan to bucked Lucifer’s orders per usual and not drunk the potion simply to spite the eldest brother.

“Hello. Can I ask what you think you’re holding in your hands?” Satan asked, his green eyes piercing as he stalked smoothly toward you. You just watched him walk towards you mesmerized by his grace, feeling slightly like a mouse watching a cat, and let him take the two jars you had held against your chest without any resistance.

“Tea?” You said. “I thought one of them was black tea, and the other was mint.”

“I see. Allow me to educate you. The one that I assume you thought was tea is black fairy candle. In low enough doses, it's cleansing to the liver, but in large enough doses it can poison your liver. The other that smells like mint is not mint at all, it’s Atropa’s Cottage. I think the closest human equivalent is called belladonna, which is extremely poisonous to humans,” Satan said after clearing his throat.

You stared at him, aghast. “Why do you keep poison in your cupboards?”

Satan’s laugh is low and rich, and your brain interpreted it as a fine, old whiskey like the kind your uncles liked to drink at weddings. You want to sit and savor it, a taste almost on your tongue, but your uterus has other ideas. A wave of nausea hits you this time in the back of your throat, and you clutch at your middle as if you hoped to hold yourself together through the wave of pain. Your eyes watered, and the handsome demon’s face blurred like a watercolor painting.

“You really are not doing well,” Satan observed clinically.

“No shit Sherlock,” you muttered mainly to yourself. Demonic hearing must be exceptional because you catch a flash of bright gleaming teeth as Satan grinned at you. “I would kill for a cup of tea,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Sit down,” Satan motioned to a stool next to the kitchen prep table. You eased yourself on it, and watched as he went through the jars meticulously, considered a few and rejected some and placed others on the table. He pulled out a stoneware teapot from a cabinet shelf, and pulled out a mug for you. He proceeded to blend several different herbs in a small bowl, grind them together a bit into smaller pieces, and then put them into the teapot with boiling water over it. He also put hot water in your mug, threw it out, and filled it with hot tea once the tea was done steeping. He presented the mug to you with a flourish.

“I mixed peppermint, chamomile, green tea, raspberry leaves, thousand seal, fennel, lemon balm, red peony root, and a bit of pine bark,” Satan explained. “I can’t promise that it will taste all that good, but it should help. Perhaps a bit of sugar will help with the taste, but I would taste it first. Sugar could potentially amplify another flavor that you may not want to make stronger.”

“Thanks Satan,” you said, holding the steaming mug in your hands. Just feeling the warmth in your fingers helped you relax a bit. You didn’t know how much tension you seemed to be carrying inside of you since this all started until you started to let it go a little.

“It’s the first time I’ve made anything like this. Let me know what you think. I could adjust the mix if some of the herbal elements are too much,” Satan offered.

“That’s very kind of you,” you said almost automatically, causing Satan to stare at you. You can’t quite read his expression, but it's enough to make you flush and you look down at this cup of herbal tea, mixed specifically for you and prepared for you, and you can’t help but feel a little spoiled by the blonde demon. But something tells you that kind isn’t the type of adjective used here in Devildom. And maybe has never been used to describe the Avatar of Wrath. As a distraction, you took a sip of the herbal mix and tasted mainly peppermint, green tea, and chamomile, as well as a few tinges of bitterness that you can’t identify. You sipped a little more.

“It’s good,” you said with a genuine smile at the blonde demon, who seemed to be staring at you avidly. His gaze was open even if he wasn’t smiling. It’s intense, and your heart thumped. It felt like he was trying to stare inside your soul.

Thankfully, both of you tore your gazes away when Beel came walking in through the kitchen door, with a bakery box in his large hands, and who stopped dead in his tracks when he realized that there were people inside the kitchen.

“So you ended up going to the Headless Cafe after all,” Satan said, breaking the silence, busying himself by putting away all the jars of herbs he had pulled to make your tea.

“Ah, yes. They were having a cupcake special,” Beel said, opening the box to show a dozen cupcakes.

Your eyes zeroed in on a dark chocolate cupcake covered in dark chocolate ganache. You’re pretty sure your eyes are glazed in desire, and you’re probably doing your best Asmo impersonation as you breathily and impulsively asked, “Beel, can I please please have the chocolate cupcake? It looks so good.” You can feel your mouth watering, and hope you’re not drooling, but frankly you might be too far gone to really care. Your entire being is keyed up over this chocolate baked confection.

“Sure,” Beel said with a glance to Satan. He took the chocolate cupcake out of the box and placed it by your elbow.

You unceremoniously grabbed the object of your desire, peeled off the paper baking cup, and took a big bite of the cupcake. The taste of chocolate was rich in your mouth, flooding through your senses. Nothing has tasted this good, as it rushed through your veins. You moaned, and felt your eyes roll back into your head in unadulterated pleasure. You’re probably making a scene you would normally be embarrassed about but right now, you can’t give a damn. It just tasted so good, like your body had been deprived and finally, finally, it was getting what you wanted. And did you want. 

So you took another mouthful. And again, the chocolate coursed through your veins. It felt like you would blackout as your entire being seemed suffused in the pleasure of eating this chocolate cupcake. You can’t be sure you didn’t moan again. You don’t care. You’re having a religious experience at this very moment.

It felt like an eternity of bliss. Except you know it was only a few minutes until you had devoured that cupcake with the same enthusiasm that you’ve seen Beel finish off a twelve course meal at Hell’s Kitchen. You touched the corners of your mouth, which were covered in chocolate icing, and wiped them on your left thumb, only to suck the remnants off your thumb with gusto. You finally came back to yourself to realize that both Satan and Beel are staring at you flushed.

You blushed. You know what kind of noises you were making, and can only imagine the faces you were making. “Thanks Beel, that was really really good and I think I really needed that. Let me know what I owe you.”

  
  
“Anytime. It was my pleasure,” Beel growled.

“Thanks for the tea Satan. If you could teach me how to make it, I would appreciate it,” you said.

“I’m at your disposal for whenever you want me to teach you,” Satan said, bright eyed and with a sharp smile.

“Well, I think I’ll head back to my room. Goodnight you two,” you said, getting up from the chair, taking command of the stone teapot and mug. You felt both Beel’s purple eyed and Satan’s green eyed gazes track every single one of your movements as you exited the kitchen.

***

Satan left almost immediately down another corridor. Not that Beel would have noticed. Beel was too busy replaying what had just happened. After dinner, and taking Solomon’s potion, Beel had escaped the House of Lamentation in search of some breathing space. And more food.

He had not expected to see you in the kitchen with Satan, clearly enjoying a cup of tea. He couldn’t tell what all was in the tea, but he could smell peppermint, chamomile, and yarrow in it. He had managed to snag three dozen cupcakes at the Headless Cafe, and had eaten two dozen on his way home, so he was looking forward to washing the rest of the cupcakes down with some milk from the fridge. 

He certainly did not expect you to practically beg him for the chocolate cupcake. And he certainly was unprepared for actually seeing you eat the cupcake. You had attacked that cupcake with such enthusiasm, and clearly moaned in pleasure. That moan had gone through Beel like a spear. He literally felt like he could feel your pleasure with every bite, and it unleashed a different hunger.

Oh, he was still hungry for cupcakes. And even with the potion, you still smelled sweet and intoxicating. Beel had a nose for this kind of thing, and he could tell that you would taste delicious. Salty, tangy, and delicious. If he had previously had fantasies of consuming your flesh, there was another dimension to his hunger now.

He could picture it clearly in his mind’s eye. You would eat a cupcake with the same enthusiasm he had just seen on display, and he would be able to bite down on the sweet flesh between your throat and neck, which is so tender. He would then follow your scent down from your neck to the middle of your chest, right above your heart. He wanted to hear the pounding of your heart, and bury his nose right where your heart and scent emanated from, and lick the salt of your skin there. He’d let his tongue slide all the way down, following his nose down. He’d pause and take a small bite of your skin around the belly because that part is typically so tender. 

Even though his sin is gluttony, Beel is not ignorant of anatomy. More importantly, he’s a millennia old demon. Even when his brothers didn’t think he was paying attention, he’s seen more than enough. 

Beel’s mouth watered at the thought of tonguing his way all the way down from neck to navel and beyond. He had never wondered how a human female would taste, dismissing all of the talk he’s heard from his brothers. 

And while his instinct would be to devour, he remembered too clearly and painfully the face and noises you made eating that cupcake. Beel shoved a cupcake into his mouth, and unbuckled his pants. He gripped himself and pumped himself slowly, thinking about how delicately he would lap at you, a flat tongue approached he used when licking an ice cream cone. He groaned imagining your taste on his tongue.

But its the thought of you moaning around his cock the same way you moaned when eating that cupcake that actually brought Beel to a shuddering orgasm in the kitchen. 

***

Satan escaped to his room the first chance he got. He was half tempted to follow you back to your room, and while tempting, Satan isn’t impulsively.

Instead, he’s on his bed, stroking himself into a frenzy by imagining your tea lesson. It would start innocently enough. He would dazzle you with all his herbology knowledge, and find excuses to touch you. While reaching for a jar of herbs, putting his hands on your hips when you rose on your tiptoes to get a mug because the shelves are too tall for you, his hands over your hands while you grind the herbs together to release their oils.

Satan growled. He had never seen such undiluted pleasure on a human’s face as you devoured that blasted cupcake. He didn’t have a food fetish, but he could clearly picture you moaning, your face flushed in pleasure, as he shoved his fingers inside of you. He wanted to bite down at the juncture of your neck, feel your shuddering in his body and through his teeth and tongue while you rode his fingers into oblivion. 

Satan grinned ferally, feeling the tension in his thighs. That would just be the beginning. Once you were boneless, he would plunder you with his cock, taking you from behind, as you squirmed against the kitchen prep table. He would take special pleasure in knowing he had taken you on the table where everyone made food for the House of Lamentation. It filled Satan with dark satisfaction to imagine knowing that he had pleasured you right there while Lucifer waited for the kettle to boil for his tea. He felt himself tighten at the thought of one upping all of his brothers like that, and none of the wiser while he had a smile like the cat that got the cream.

And oh, would he have gotten that cream. He would not be satisfied until you moaned out loud all your pleasure as he serviced you. 

Satan is familiar with the tingling at the base of his spine that heralded the beginning of an orgasm. However, at the moment of his orgasm, what he pictured was your warm gaze, and your voice cooing in his ear about how kind he was to teach you. It’s so startling that he spills all over his hands and sheets in a knee-weakening orgasm that rocks him to his core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... definitely the most explicit I've written. WOOF.


	3. Reversed Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your period causes you to break out, and you seek Asmo out.  
> Which causes Asmo to seek you out.

You frowned. While you have had breakouts before during your period, it's never been this bad. And honestly you have no idea how it's so big already. You can only surmise that it's because of Solomon’s potion. And unfortunately you’ve already gone through all your products, and there isn’t anything you think will fix this.

You debate texting Mammon to pick up something from the pharmacy, but decide against it. Not that he wouldn’t do you the favor, but you’re not sure what you need. So you end up texting Asmo to find out if he’s still room or if he’s already left for the evening. You’re in luck, and he’s willing to receive you, so you hurried to his room.

You knocked on his door and Asmo’s voice rang out “come in come in”. He’s got his back to you, and he’s at his vanity carefully applying eye shadow with a brush as you stepped in through the door. 

“What can I do for you, honey?” Asmo asked as he continued his work.

“I have the mother of all breakouts happening right now, and I would spare you the sight, but I don’t think I can. I need you to help me,” you sighed.

Asmo turned around to look at you, and gasped, “What happened to your lovely face?”   
  


“I’m breaking out. You’re my only hope,” you pleaded at Asmo.

“Oh darling, you’ve come to the right place. Sit sit,” he motioned you over to the hanging basket chair in his room. “Let me finish doing my eyes and I’ll attend to your problem.”

You waited patiently as Asmo expertly finished doing his eye make up, adding some golden highlighter to the inside of his inner eyelids. It’s clear that he’s primping to go out, as usual. Personally you feel like this emerging volcano range is a little more important, but you are imposing, and despite being self-centered like that, Asmo will help you out. Eventually.

“Thank you for your patience darling,” Asmo drawled as he inspected his eyes before turning at you.

“That looks nice, the highlighting is well done,” you answered back.

“I know, but it's kind of you to say so,” Asmo said as he rummaged through his vanity. He set several bottles out, and then sauntered to his bathroom, and you heard the noise of other products being pulled out and set aside. Asmo finally gave you his undivided attention, and his eyes opened wide. “It really is hideous.”

You grimaced. You knew it was true, but it would have been nice if Asmo didn’t point it out that way. But then again, perhaps expecting that level of kindness from Asmo was unrealistic.

“Don’t worry, this should fix you right up,” Asmo said, as he pressed a bottle of concentrated niacinamide into your hands. “This has zinc in it as well, and it’s supposed to help with your skin healing faster.”

“Thanks, I was freaking out,” you admitted.

“Yes, well, anyone would,” Asmo said, batting his eyelids cheekily at you. You sort of had to admire his determination to flirt even when someone was clearly not feeling it. “Don’t worry, I would still sex you, but we would have to wait until your little problem has cleared away,” he leered at you.

You rolled your eyes. Asmo had been hitting on you since you moved into the House of Lamentation. But then again, you came to understand it didn’t make you special. Asmo hit on good looking shrubbery. He couldn’t help himself. He was the Avatar of Lust.

He even flirted with himself.

You were on the fence as to whether it was nice to have someone find you attractive, or if Asmo being Asmo just found everyone attractive. It wasn’t special. 

“Just think of all the fun things we could do,” Asmo said with a sing-song voice as he spritzed himself with cologne.

“The same fun things you’re going to do with others?” you sassed back.

Asmo shrugged delicately. “Do what you’re good at, is what I say,” his amber eyes flashing.

The underlying tension reminded you that Asmo was a demon after all. With appetites. And clearly with little regard for others. You’re sure that Asmo has probably forgotten more about sex than most people ever discover about their own sexuality. He probably has no inhibitions. People have most likely orgasmed to death in his bed. Asmo is dangerous. 

And you know it.

“Well, thank you for your time,” you said stiffly as you got up from your seat, trying not to feel out of your depth and virginal by comparison. Your left hand clutched the bottle that Asmo had given you, and you watched Asmo continue his preparations for the evening.

  
  


***

Asmo was strangely unmoved, going through the motions. At this point, it's just muscle memory. One of the reasons, he has continued to go through bed partners is that he can detach his mind and float while his body is preoccupied with the mechanics of sex. That’s not to say that all of the sex he engaged in is mechanical, it’s just that often it allows other parts of his consciousness to detach from this world or this moment, and Asmo gained a different perspective.

It’s like watching yourself from far away.

He saw that he’s keeping the right rhythm, the writhing was right, the panting was even spaced and melodic. His body knew what to do and how to deliver. He wouldn’t want anyone to say he was losing his touch. Nothing to be had but unmentionable pleasure with a night with the Avatar of Lust.

Why was it that today he feels so cold?

There’s one blinding moment of perfection at the pinnacle of pleasure that he chases all the time. One blinding moment of oblivion that allows his existence to distill into just being. A single moment of absolute clarity.

It has never made him feel so alone right now. A singular being. Utterly perfect. Utterly alone.

***

He made his way home after the orgy. It’s not like he’s known for spending time with his lovers. He does sometimes, but all of his partners know that to expect consistency or any sort of monogam-ish behavior was just a blatant self-delusion. 

The idea of going to bed by himself as he normally does was unsatisfactory. However, the notion of spending his time entwined with another body was strangely repellant. He felt like a scalded cat, irritated by all of his options, all sixes and sevens.

Which is why he stood in front of Yuki’s door, staring at the grain of wood on the door. He hesitated knocking, debating whether it was too late. In the end, he dropped his hand, and instead made his way down to the kitchen.

The water kettle was just starting to bubble, when you shuffled into the kitchen, your hair up in a bun and a mud mask on. You let out a little yelp at seeing him, and tried to hide your face against her shoulder, holding out your hands in front of you as a shield. “ARGH! Asmo, I thought you were out. OMG I look terrible,” you babbled.

Asmo gave a delicate shrug. “I’m home now,” he answered noncommittally. “Brave of you to be wandering around like that, but good for you for taking care of yourself.”

“My face has been a mess since I’ve started taking Solomon’s potion,” you grumbled. “I was hoping to make some tea. I took a bath, but everything still hurts.”

This piqued Asmo’s interest. He was actually quite familiar with human anatomy, male and female, and with human cycles. All of his bed partners have been eager for his attention, even during their monthly cycle. He has never heard any of them complain of body aches. At least, not from their cycle. “Anything I can help you with?” Asmo asked.

You studied him, while the kettle whistled announcing the water was ready. Asmo doesn’t know if to be amused or to be insulted. He actually didn’t have ulterior motives. This time. He’s just genuinely curious. 

“Can I get a hug? A real one? Not one of those where you try to use it as an excuse to feel me up?” you asked, her eyes serious.

“Of course, darling,” Asmo said, sidling up to you. You were tense, not knowing if this was a good idea or not, but he wrapped his arms lightly around you, like if you were a skittish animal. Your shoulders trembled, and Asmo stood there, breathing into your hair. Your arms came around his waist after a few seconds, deciding it was safe enough to do that.

One breath. Two breaths. 

You moved closer to him, and he shifted to align his body with yours, and your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. 

One breath. Two breaths. Asmo was afraid to move, afraid to break whatever this was. He felt her chest rise and fall, he felt his rise and fall trying to match hers. 

“You know, this is the first hug I’ve had since I came here?” You whispered, your voice uneven with loneliness and sadness.

Asmo was stunned. It seemed that he was forever trying to touch you. He wasn’t the only one. Mammon, Levi, and Beel all seemed to come up with excuses to touch you, or hold your hand. Even Satan had taken to engineering times when his hands seemed to be on a collision course with your over utensils, books, pencils, you name it. 

“I guess I was feeling lonely. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t gotten a hug until just now. I think because I’m constantly surrounded by you guys…. Except for these days. It makes me feel… like there’s something wrong with me,” you spoke, snuggling into him, trying to hide from your own words. 

Asmo reflexively tightened his arms around you, but you didn’t mind. He breathed slowly through his nose. Typically he would have used this opportunity to press for more, but the idea of doing so left a bad taste in his mouth, even when he's acutely aware of your nipples against his chest and how strangely erotic that is. You didn’t need a reminder about how desirable you were. What you needed was to be  _ comforted. _

And Asmo was terrified of fucking up, even as he feels a wave of lust wash over him.

He would have laughed at the absurdity of it, if it had happened to anyone else. Here was the Avatar of Lust, epitome of pleasure, and he couldn’t figure out how to make you feel good. Not in the ways that mattered. Oh, he knew how to give you an orgasm in a dozen different ways but touching you would be a mistake. Instead he was floundering on what exactly to say to let you know that there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. That they were all staying away because they didn’t want to ravage you on the spot, despite consuming Solomon’s potion, and it somehow made you feel unwanted. And unloved.

How the fuck is this his life even? The irony was killing him.

“Darling, there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. We’re all staying away, including myself, because we don’t want to put you in danger,” Asmo said with a strangled voice. “But please please please do not doubt how attractive we find you.”

“Really?” you asked with a sniffle.

“Really. I mean, I’m letting you put MUD on my shirt. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, darling,” Asmo responded, trying to infuse some lightness into the situation.

You made the move to step back, but Asmo refused to let go. “No, don’t. You haven’t had a hug since you came here. You’re clearly deprived. And who am I to deprive you from physical contact? Come here.”

You giggled, but settled back down. It gave his heart a start, and Asmo felt an emotion he had not felt in millennia rise within. Even with Yuki pressing her delectable body against his, Asmo felt more tender than horny.    
  


More importantly, he felt a savage satisfaction at knowing that he was hugging you first. Oh, he would have love to be your first kiss, your first orgasm, your first everything. He imagined this is what incited Mammon’s greed and lust. Oh, Asmo was well aware of how much lust you were inspiring in the house, even with individuals that weren’t so aware of it themselves. He wanted to taste the salt of your skin, feel how soft your pussy was, and hear your heart hammer as you strove toward your peak. But having you derive comfort from him? That was giving him palpitations. He felt his hands start to sweat, something that hadn’t happened since before The Fall.

Shaken, Asmo could only cling to you in the kitchen, feeling a piercing feeling that seemed to stab at the back of his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote this chapter a few times, and finally decided that what Asmo actually fantasizes about is being wanted. Not so much about physical pleasure, which he has all the time. So it ended up as a very different chapter to the others.

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a slightly darker fic, and definitely the smuttiest so far. Comments appreciated!


End file.
